


Grace Under Fire

by windsorblue



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-30
Updated: 2007-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 04:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsorblue/pseuds/windsorblue





	Grace Under Fire

  
  
  
  
**Entry tags:**   
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[2x4](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/2x4), [duo](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/duo), [fic](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [gw](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/gw), [quatre](http://postwarmiracles.livejournal.com/tag/quatre)  
  
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**(fic) (GW) Grace Under Fire (2x4, R - language)**   
_   
written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/springkink/profile)[**springkink**](http://community.livejournal.com/springkink/)  
\- rating: R  
\- prompt: hurt/comfort - "When we get out of here, I'm going to have to kill someone."

They were in a full-bore run when he heard Quatre grunt - stumble and scramble - and when Duo turned to grab his arm, a bullet whizzed by his ear, too close for comfort. Duo pulled Quatre closer, all but dragging him to the closest spot that looked even halfway safe - an elevator at the end of the hall. He punched the button to close the door before hitting the one for the ground floor, cursing under his breath. "I swear to God, I'm gonna fucking kill somebody when we get out of here."

Quatre was leaned up against the opposite wall, his left hand over the bullet wound in his right arm, blood coating his fingers, dripping slowly. "I think you already did kill somebody, actually. Two or three somebodies."

"Yeah, well, the rest of those motherfuckers are next on my list." He stuck his gun in the holster and went to Quatre, trying to pry his fingers off the wound. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine," Quatre replied, teeth gritted.

"The fuck it is." Duo ripped a sleeve off of his shirt and batted Quatre's hand away, bandaging the bullet hole as best he could. Anything to stop the blood flowing...anything to make it better...

Watching Duo work, Quatre muttered in a rough voice, "Gee, Duo - I didn't know you cared."

"Of course I care, dipshit." Duo didn't look up when he said it, just kept wrapping Quatre's arm and praying in his head. So it took him a minute to notice Quatre wasn't responding, just breathing, and watching him. Duo tied the ends into a knot and said, "What?"

"You're not kidding, are you?"

Duo looked up, finally, and Quatre's eyes were wide open, staring at him. "Is this really a good time for this conversation?"

"Are you?"

Duo was about to say something non-comittal, something to get him out of this one, when the elevator lurched to a violent stop, throwing him almost off his feet. His hands went up to brace himself against the wall and there he was, pressed up against Quatre - chest to chest and crotch to crotch - and for a second all he could do was look into Quatre's wide-eyed stare and not breathe. "I..."

The plastic covering the narrow hatch in the elevator's ceiling suddenly shattered - bullets rained down through the hole and punched into the metal floor, and they could hear more bouncing against the reinforced steel structure and walls of the shaft. Duo flattened Quatre into the wall and pushed him hurriedly into the corner, his arms covering Quatre's head, his own head tucked into Quatre's shoulder. And then Quatre's arms were around Duo too - one around his back, elbow near Duo's waist and hand gripping Duo's shoulder; one fisted into Duo's shirt and the waistband of his pants, at the small of Duo's back.

Duo's mouth was pressed up against Quatre's neck when he whispered, "No, I wasn't kidding."

He felt Quatre's laugh, short and soft, warm across his cheek - here they were getting shot at and what the hell was so funny? "I'm glad you weren't," Quatre said. "Really fucking glad you weren't."

And then Quatre's nose was nudging at Duo's cheek - nudging him to turn his head just that much - and then Quatre was kissing him, hard and furious, clinging and hungry and Duo couldn't help but give back as good as he got. Quatre grunted again, but this time because he was grinding his hips into Duo's, and Duo's cock was hard as hell, and _why the fuck were they still getting shot at?_

Duo broke away, gasp-breathing. "Got any grenades left?"

"Yeah, one," Quatre nodded, and handed it over. Duo stepped back one step and Quatre moved with him, pulling his gun and holding it up over their heads, steady with both hands, his right arm quaking from trying to work. Quatre fired one-two-three-four times and Duo pulled the grenade pin with his teeth, spat it out, and stepped back to throw it up out of the elevator car. They heard it land and roll into the open doorway above them, and this time when Duo shoved Quatre against the wall it didn't take them any time at all to start kissing.

Above them, they could hear the grenade explode. Quatre's leg wrapped around Duo's, his crotch to Duo's thigh, rubbing and Duo thought he might just cream himself right there, and then the elevator car lurched again and started to slide downward.

They froze - looked up; stopped kissing long enough for Duo to mutter "Oh, shit..." - and then the car fell fast, hard enough to throw them to the floor. Duo was on his back and Quatre was on top of him, and as they fell they couldn't stop watching each other's eyes. "Told you this was a bad time to have this conversation," Duo said.

"Yeah, last week when we were on stakeout for 36 hours in the hotel room would have been better, but what're you gonna do?" Quatre replied. He shoved the fingers of one hand - his good arm - into Duo's hair, hard enough to hurt, but Duo didn't mind. "I always wanted to die while in the throes of passion," Quatre said, and then he shoved his tongue into Duo's mouth.

The car slammed to a halt, sending Quatre sprawling into the shattered plastic on the floor. He grimaced and let out a guttural noise, grabbing his injured arm, and Duo scrambled up onto hands and knees to get to him. "Shit, Quatre..." and then Duo heard the elevator door slide open behind them. His eyes went wide and he grabbed for his gun, but before he got it out of the holster Quatre was half-sitting up, holding his own weapon, pointing it out and up toward the opening door, between his parted knees.

From the now-open space, someone shouted, "Preventers - freeze!"

Duo turned to look over his shoulder and Quatre flopped down onto his back. "Thank God..." Quatre muttered.

"Well, fuck me..." Duo began.

"Later," Quatre replied, and Duo glanced over at him - surprised - and broke into a smile. When Quatre smiled back and said, "Did the Earth move for you, too?", Duo got to his feet and helped Quatre up.

"About time you losers got here!" Duo called. He boosted Quatre up to the waiting hands of their rescuers and slipped in a pat on the ass as he did. "I wasn't kidding about that whole 'fuck me' thing, either," Duo murmured to Quatre.

"Good," Quatre murmured back. "Because I wasn't kidding when I said 'later'."  



End file.
